“‘I shall not tell anybody that will get you into trouble. Run, now!’
“He dried his tears, and ran, fast enough, holding the little brown jug carefully at half-arm’s length, and his bare feet pattering over the ground as fast as his short legs could make them.
“Silky stood looking gravely after him.
“‘I’m so sorry for him, mother!’ she said. ‘This won’t do; it’s very wrong, and he’ll get himself into dreadful trouble besides.’
“‘Poor fellow!—we’ll see, honey;—we’ll try what we can do,’ said Mrs. Meadow.
“The next morning Norman came again, and Mrs. Meadow was there.
“‘How is Long-Ears, Norman? and how are you?’ she said cheerfully. But she did everything cheerfully.
“‘He’s well,’ said Norman, looking a little doubtfully at these civilities.
“‘And you are not well?’ said Mrs. Meadow, kindly. ‘Suppose you come and see me to-morrow?—it’s Sunday, you know, and you have no work—will you? Come bright and early, and we’ll have a nice breakfast, and you shall go to church with me, if you like.’
“Norman shook his head. ‘Curly’ll want to see me,’ he said.